


Hot Guy

by the_one_that_fell



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Final Exams, Getting Together, Grocery Store, M/M, Meet-Cute, Non-Hockey Jack, chubby jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 18:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12195042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: Today was the worst possible day for Jack to run into Hot Guy at the store, so of course he ran into Hot Guy at the store. The universehatedhim.





	Hot Guy

**Author's Note:**

> CW: vague mentions of body insecurity and fat shaming, abuse of energy drinks, college typical sleep deprivation

Today was the worst possible day for Jack to run into Hot Guy at the store, so of course he ran into Hot Guy at the store. The universe  _hated_  him.

Jack and Hot Guy had similar schedules, it seemed: they both did their grocery shopping on Thursday evenings, they both got munchies on Sunday afternoons, and sometimes they even ran into each other doing beer runs on the weekend. Hot Guy appeared to be a Samwell student as well, given his SMH hoodie – and  _Christ_  did hockey follow Jack everywhere – and always smiled kindly at Jack when they bumped into each other, sometimes chatting for a minute or two in his cute-as-fuck southern accent before scurrying off to the baking section. Jack had yet to learn his name, but he knew he was getting pathetic when he started looking forward to his grocery store trips.

But today was not a good day for Jack to be seen by the hottest guy in the neighborhood. They were deep into finals, and Jack was totally rewriting a good chunk of his thesis and this draft was  _possibly_  due tomorrow and his neighbors kept arguing at weird hours and Jack was running on about two hours of sleep and-

Everything was  _terrible_. Even Hot Guy couldn’t make that better, especially since he was now looking at Jack with his stress-eating-belly and anxiety-induced breakout and what Parse had once dubbed his Super Tired Murder Eyes. Jack looked  _horrible_ and Hot Guy was fucking killing it in his tight sweatpants and oversized Sabres hoodie – something he’d probably stolen from his  _boyfriend_  because he was  _hot_  and  _nice_  and definitely couldn’t be single at all or even interested in a huge mess like Jack.

Grunting to himself, Jack reached for a pack of Five Hour Energy and hoped it wouldn’t kill him. He didn’t have time to worry about Hot Guy; Jack had too much work to get done.

“Oh, Lord, that stuff messes with my head.”

To Jack’s horror, Hot Guy had approached him and was pointing at the energy drinks in his hand. “Euh,” was his eloquent response.

“I get all shaky and hot when I drink more than half a shot of those things,” Hot Guy continued, his own basket laden down with a disturbing amount of unsalted butter. “‘Course, that’s usually after several espressos and an Americano or two, so maybe I shouldn’t tempt fate like that.”

Jack’s lips quirked at the edges as Hot Guy pronounced it “express-o.” Despite himself and his nasty appearance – when was the last time he’d showered? – Jack was really happy to see Hot Guy.

“That’s a lot of butter,” Jack commented, struggling to keep the conversation going. Hot Guy looked down ashamedly.

“Yeah, I know, I just- I stress bake, you know? Probably an unhealthy amount, but at least it fuels the boys in their studying and no one has to trek out to the dining hall and disturb their momentum.”

Jack assumed he was referring to his teammates, and desperately hoped he didn’t mean his  _multiple handsome boyfriends_  or something else equally disheartening. “What are you making?”

Hot Guy’s smile came back and Jack ignored the stupid flip in his stomach at the sight. “Well, pie’s my specialty, so I’m going through our Sin Bin fund and trying to make everybody’s favorite pie before the week is up. Tonight’s menu includes honey peach and chocolate chip pecan.”

Jack held back a smile at the funny way Hot Guy said 'pecan.' He was too cute for words, and Jack so desperately wished they had a class together or that he was on the hockey team, too, or that they knew each other from somewhere other than the grocery store.

“Sounds delicious,” Jack said, fiddling with the Cheetos and Chef Boyardee already loaded into his basket. He loved junk food when he was stressed, but a homemade pie sounded divine right now.

“You should come over for a slice,” Hot Guy said, and Jack looked up to see he was biting his bottom lip nervously. “I mean, if you want. If you’re not too busy. You don’t have to, but we always have plenty of pie- oh! And I’m making Buffalo chicken mac n’ cheese tonight for Holster, he claims it’s the ‘dish of his people’ but I don’t believe that for one second-”

Jack wondered idly if this was the boyfriend whose Buffalo Sabres hoodie Hot Guy wore now. “Oh, uh, that sounds great, but I’m sort of drowning in work tonight and probably shouldn’t…”

“Oh, right, of course,” Hot Guy said quickly, and though Jack wasn’t great with reading other people’s emotions, he thought it would be unusual for a guy with a boyfriend to blush this hard in these circumstances. “I-I just thought- I always see you here and you’re really- I mean, it’s silly, I know it’s silly, but- Do I sound creepy? I’m sorry, you’re not interested, I should just-”

Jack caught Hot Guy’s elbow as he turned to leave, smiling as he realized what was happening. “I turn in a draft of my thesis tomorrow morning. Tonight, ideally. I still have exams but I’m pretty confident about those…what I’m trying to say is, do you want to get coffee tomorrow? If you’re not too busy?”

Hot Guy looked stunned and nodded slowly, large, warm eyes growing impossibly larger. “That would be nice. Annie’s?”

Jack nodded eagerly. He lived close to Annie’s and liked their smoothies. “They have good  _chocolatine_ there.”

Hot guy tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Chocolatine?”

“ _Pain au chocolat,_ ” Jack clarified.

To his surprise, Hot Guy didn’t politely agree or subtly eye Jack’s chunky gut or make some comment about their  _healthier_  options. Instead, he gasped and said, “They do  _not_. I love Annie’s to death but their pastries are an abomination.”

This startled a laugh out of Jack. He’d never met someone who was so passionate about baked goods. “They taste like the kind my dad makes.”

“Then you need to send your father  _my_  recipe,” Hot Guy said. “C’mon, let’s grab the fixings for it and I’ll bring you some tomorrow.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Jack protested. “You have your pies already-”

“Uh-uh, mister,” Hot Guy said, pulling Jack by the hand toward the baking aisle. “I do  _not_  show up to a first date empty-handed.”

And the thought of that – of going on a  _date_  with Hot Guy – was honestly too much for him to process on such little sleep. “Wait, wait, hold up.”

Hot Guy turned, cheeks pink again. “Sorry, I just assumed-”

“I don’t know your name.” Jack looked down at their connected hands and swallowed roughly, anxiety bubbling in his gut. “I need to know your name before our date.”

Hot Guy smiled widely and laughed, loud and bright. “Oh, Lord, where are my manners? I’m Bitty. Well, Eric, but all the boys call me Bitty. Hockey,” he clarified with a shrug.

“Nice to meet you, Bitty,” Jack said. “I’m Jack.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I Facebook stalked you,” Bitty admitted, looking down at his shoes. “Pretty much the first day we met.” He looked up, worried. “Is that creepy? I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s kind of flattering,” Jack said, moving closer. “I wish I’d thought to Google you.”

“The boys say your dad’s hockey famous or something,” Bitty admitted, still looking unsure. “I don’t really know much about the NHL.” He gestured to his sweatshirt. “I couldn’t name a single player on the Sabres. I stole this from my teammate because all mine are covered in flour and egg.”

Jack felt something warm bubble in his chest. It had been a year or two since he’d been recognized and nobody really talked about him much anymore, but there was always something refreshing in meeting a person who had no clue who he was or who his father had once been. To Bitty, Jack was just the awkward guy he’d liked enough to find on Facebook. He probably thought of him as Tall Guy or Montreal Jack – Bitty didn’t know the weight of the Zimmermann name at all.

“A hockey player who doesn’t watch the NHL? I’m shocked,” Jack chirped, delighting in the sound of Bitty’s laugh again.

“Shush, I get enough grief from my boys, I don’t need it from the hot grocery store guy, too.”

Jack paused for a moment, confused, and then leaned down to peck Bitty’s cheek, overcome with emotion in his delicate, sleep-deprived state.

“I’ve really got to run,” Jack said, pulling back. “But tomorrow at three or so?”

“Three’s perfect,” Bitty said breathlessly, hand creeping up to touch the cheek Jack had kissed.

“Just so you know,” Jack murmured, giving Bitty a quick wink. “I think of you as Hot Guy, too.”

Bitty’s blinding smile followed Jack through the checkout line and back to his apartment, dancing around his head as he blasted through the last bit of his thesis and starring in his dreams as he passed out around dawn, alarm clock set to wake him up in time for his  _date_.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-Posted to [Tumblr.](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/post/165740416617/au-zimbits-meetcute-hot-guy-at-the-grocery-store)  
> My online [novel.](http://thediscourtknife.com/)


End file.
